


Justin's Day

by bjfic_archivist



Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: Canon, No Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-07-16
Updated: 2005-07-16
Packaged: 2018-12-27 04:34:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,368
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12073620
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bjfic_archivist/pseuds/bjfic_archivist
Summary: Justin gets a day of his very own.  Independent of most of the events in season 5 although I wrote it because I've fallen in love with season 5 Gus who is adorable.





	Justin's Day

**Author's Note:**

> Note from IrishCaelan, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Brian/Justin Fanfiction Archive](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Brian_Justin_Fanfiction_Archive). To preserve the archive, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in September 2017. I posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [The Brian/Justin Fanfiction Archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/bjfic/profile).

It all began with a question. 

"Daddy, when's Justin's Day?" Gus asked, looking up from his drawing of at tiger at his father, brows drawn in a la Kinney senior.

"Justin's Day?" Used to his son's peculiar questions, Brian was, nevertheless, perplexed by this one. Although Gus was only five, he was precocious. Everyone said so, from his proud parents to his teachers. If his classmates had known the meaning of the word, they would have used it to describe him as well. He made up the best games to play, and could make everyone laugh, and always knew the answers to all of the teacher's questions. Of course, with Brian Kinney for a father, no one should have expected anything less.

"Yeah," Gus explained. "My mommies have Mommies Day and you have Daddy's Day so when's Justin's Day?" This had been bothering Gus for some time, ever since he'd begun to understand what the cards he made in school really meant. When he was in preschool, the cards were just another art project but this year, in kindergarten, he finally realized that the cards meant something. They meant his mommies and his daddy were special. But what about Justin? Justin was special too. Justin made him blueberry pancakes, and had read him Winnie-the-Pooh before he'd learned to read; Justin never got tired pushing him on the swings no matter how long they'd been outside playing, and when Justin was around, his daddy laughed more and that was a good thing. When Brian didn't answer him, Gus repeated his question. He found that grown ups sometimes didn't hear little kids when they spoke and often you had to keep saying what you had to say over and over again until they heard you. 

Brian was at loss for words. "Ah… Sonny Boy, um… ah…" He was certainly glad Justin had decided to visit Daphne this afternoon. Actually, Justin had decided that it would be better if he went to visit his friend and didn't stay home and slaughter his partner. They were currently going through one of their rough patches when each of them seemed to possess the ability to royally piss off the other with very little effort over the smallest of infractions. Brian couldn’t even remember what they'd argued about but it had been enough to send Justin fleeing from the loft. Even though he couldn't remember what they'd fought about, there was no way he could forget the look on Justin's face as he'd slammed the door shut: he looked about five minutes away from a meltdown on the order of Chernobyl. 

Tugging on Brian's arm to get his attention, Gus asked, "Daddy, doesn't Justin get a day too?"

With a smile, Brian raised his son from the floor and kissed him on the forehead. "Yeah, Sonny Boy, Justin gets a day too."

"When?"

"Tomorrow," Brian replied, making an executive decision, something he was imminently qualified to do. "Tomorrow is Justin's Day."

"Yea!" yelled Gus. "I'm gonna make Justin a card." Getting out a new sheet of paper to make the card, Gus remembered something. "Are you gonna make Justin breakfast in bed, Daddy?" His mommies always had breakfast in bed on Mommies' Day. 

Not a bad idea, thought Brian. "I sure am. You wanna help me?" When Gus nodded, Brian asked, "What do you think Justin would like for breakfast?"

"Pancakes."

"That's what you like for breakfast," Brian said and Gus giggled.

"Toast," Gus suggested.

"That's what I like," said Brian. 

Gus frowned, his little brow furrowed in concentration. Then his eyes brightened. "Bacon!" he said. "And hash browns." Justin loved bacon and hash browns and whenever they went to the diner, that's what he ordered. 

"Good boy," Brian told him, then went to check the fridge to see if they had any bacon and hash browns. They had bacon but there wasn't a spud in sight in any form. No surprise since Brian bitched whenever they were in the house, declaring potatoes to be the Devil's food. He and Gus would have to make a run to the grocery store. Just as well, he needed to pick up a few things anyway. Grabbing his wallet and his and Gus' shoes, Brian called his son over and they got ready to go. "You can work on your card when we get back."

 

Only for Justin would Brian brave not only the grocery store but the mall as well on a Saturday afternoon. Cursing under his breath lest Gus hear him and repeat his words to Justin and anyone else who would listen, Brian struggled to keep his temper in check and reminded himself that he was doing this for the man that he loved. Saving the supermarket for last, Brian waded through the crowds until he got to the shop he'd been looking for. Having explained his needs, the manager assured Brian that they could fulfill his request. Just give them an hour and they'd have his item ready. 

Since Gus never turned down an opportunity to hit the toy store, Brian gave in to the little boy's pleas and they killed an hour wandering up and down aisle after aisle of overpriced, poorly made merchandise. When Gus realized that his daddy wasn't going to buy him anything, including the Batmobile from the movie his Uncle Mikey had taken him to see—"But it's the Tumbler, Daddy,"—he crossed his arms and followed Brian morosely out of the store and only regained his previous good humor when they picked up Justin's gift. Just thinking about Justin and how happy he would be when he got his present made Gus happy. He couldn't wait.

After the mall, they stopped at the supermarket and Brian picked up the necessary items for tomorrow's breakfast. On the way home, they passed a florist's shop which gave Brian another idea. Once they returned to the loft, he put away the groceries, hid Justin's gift, and placed a call. It only took a few moments for him to conclude his transaction and everything was set. "Now, Sonny Boy," he reminded Gus, "remember, this is a surprise. So don't say anything to Justin about Justin's Day. Okay?"

"Okay, Daddy." Gus looked slightly put out. As if he needed reminding that this was a surprise.

Seeing the look on his son's face, Brian laughed out loud. God, Gus was so much like him it was as if they'd cloned him. Regardless of the drugs he had imbibed, Brian still remembered everything that had happened at the hospital the night Gus was born. Remembered running down the hallway and throwing open the door to find Lindsay holding his tiny, red-faced offspring. Remembered taking Gus from his mother and peering down at him, memorizing every feature. Remembered the feel of Gus' wee hand touching his face as if he'd known already that this was his daddy. And throughout it all, Justin had been there. Running beside him, standing behind him, watching him, sharing one of the most important moments in his life. Hell, he'd even named Gus saving him from an almost certain junior high school death. Abraham, Christ. What had that crazy dyke been thinking?

"Daddy?"

With an internal sigh, Brian braced himself for another one of Gus' infernal questions. "Yeah?"

"How come I have two mommies but only one daddy?"

"Ah…" Fuck, how did that kid come up with these things?

"How come Justin's not my daddy too?"

"Cause…" floundered Brian, "cause he's… ah, well… ah..." He racked his brain for a suitable answer, something a precocious five-year-old would understand when he wasn't quite sure that he understood at thirty-four. 

"Aren't you and Justin married?"

"No, we're not." Not that Justin wouldn't throw on a tuxedo and stand in front of a minister if he asked. Or maybe he wouldn't. Maybe Justin really didn't want to be married. He'd said it enough times when Brian had tried to sound out his feelings on the topic. In spite of Justin's protestations to the contrary, Brian couldn't help but think that Justin still harbored a desire to exchange vows in front of their friends and family. Deep down, Justin was a romantic and even his misadventures with the Fiddler hadn't cured him of his romantic notions. Even being involved with the world's most unromantic man on and off for the past five years hadn't disabused him of the desire to be wined and dined. 

To give the devil his due, Brian had succumbed to Justin's wishes on occasion and treated him to a romantic evening, the most recent being his graduation from PIFA. There'd been the obligatory party at Jennifer's townhouse for the family the day of Justin's graduation ceremony but Brian had made reservations for the next evening and taken Justin to Papagano's where they'd dined by candlelight and shared delectable morsels and decadent desserts. Justin's smile had been brighter than the light reflected off the prisms of the crystal chandelier overhead. They'd gone home afterwards and made love for hours. Brian figured he'd lived off the brownie points from that evening for weeks. 

Yet here they were arguing again. 

Gus interrupted his thoughts. "How come?"

"How come what?"

"How come you and Justin aren't married?"

"I—"

"Don't you love Justin, Daddy?"

About to give his standard answer about not believing in love, Brian found that he couldn't, not when faced with Gus' big hazel eyes, the little boy ready to take to heart anything his daddy said. Besides, he was scrupulously honest even to his own detriment and he couldn’t lie to himself and pretend that he didn't love Justin. They'd been through too much for him to deny his feelings anymore even if he didn't tell him everyday or even every other month. "Yeah, I love him," he said softly. 

"Then you should get married."

"Gus… it's not as simple as that."

"Jimmy's daddies got married," Gus told him, proof to his five-year-old mind that it was indeed that simple. 

"Not everyone gets married, Gus."

"Why not?"

"They just don't," he said which sounded lame even to him. No way would Gus accept that for an answer.

"That's stupid," pronounced Gus with all of his five years of wisdom. Suddenly he grinned slyly. "I bet you asked Justin and he said, 'No.' " 

"He did not!" Brian replied before he realized what he was doing. It would not do to engage in a verbal tug of war with a kindergartener. 

"I bet he did."

"I never asked."

"Cause you're afraid."

"I am not." There he went again. Christ.

"Uh-huh. You're scared, Daddy."

"No, I'm not."

"Then ask him." Gus waited for his father's answer.

Brian's face burned. He couldn’t believe he'd been backed into a corner by his own kid. Gus had done something no one else had done in all the years he and Justin had been together: he'd dared Brian to either put up or shut up. 

When Brian didn't reply, Gus put down his crayons and climbed onto his daddy's lap and touched his face. "It's okay, Daddy." His daddy was scared and Gus' mommies had told him that it was okay to be scared. Sometimes being scared kept you from doing the wrong thing. But how could marrying Justin be the wrong thing? Gus knew his daddy loved Justin and Justin loved his daddy. Maybe Daddy was right and it wasn't that simple. Gus leaned up and kissed his cheek. 

 

Around five, Brian decided to call Justin's cell to see if his partner was coming home for dinner. Not knowing what kind of mood Justin was in, Brian played it straight: no jokes, no sarcasm. Justin, in turn, did the same. Brian guessed his time with Daphne had gone a long way towards calming him down. 

"I'll be there in a half hour or so. Want me to pick something up?" Justin asked.

"I ordered pizza," Brian told him, hoping he'd done the right thing. 

"Giovanni's?"

"Yep." Brian waited, wondering what the silence at the other end meant. Then, figuring he had nothing to gain by remaining taciturn himself, he said, "I'm sorry about this morning."

"Me too."

Brian could almost see the smile on Justin's face, the little one that tiptoed across his lips whenever they made up after one of their numerous disagreements. "See you later."

"Later."

Thumbing off the phone, Brian perched on the edge of the couch and watched Gus put the finishing touches on his card. After Gus had kissed him, the little boy had climbed back down and continued working on his Justin's Day card. But Brian hadn't been able to put their conversation out of his mind. 

Maybe he was scared. Somewhere along the way, maybe being afraid to commit had replaced being uninterested in commitment. He remembered watching Mikey and Ben exchanging vows and feeling just a teeny bit sad that he would never experience the same thing. For the longest time he'd really believed that being committed to one person was akin to really being committed, as in a mental institution. Marriage was for straight people and all it ever did for them was to make them miserable so why bother? Not believing in marriage and commitment and monogamy had gone hand in hand with not believing in love. Only, he did love Justin and no one doubted that, not anymore. And they were committed to one another, had been for years now. There were no more fiddlers, no more cliffs, no more dramatic gestures. Justin had gone to Hollywood with Brian's blessing and returned to him after his work on Rage had been completed and they hadn't been apart since except for an occasional spat which landed Justin on Daphne's sofa or Brian on Mikey's couch. 

So what was standing in their way? Why hadn't they gotten married?

 

With Gus ensconced in front of the television set watching "Pokemon", his pizza on a plate next to him, the two men took up residence on the sofa to eat and talk. 

"Do you even remember what we were arguing about this morning?" Brian asked.

"The future," replied Justin. 

"Hmm." Now he remembered. Justin had graduated that spring and was working part-time at Sydney's gallery but he hadn't decided what he wanted to do with his life. For some reason, his fears all came to a head that morning and Brian's suggestion that he stay at home and concentrate on his art until he figured it out had set him off. Brian remembered Justin yelling that he wouldn't be a trophy wife or a kept man and then barricading himself in the bathroom for a half hour before emerging even angrier than before. Of course, Brian's ribbing hadn't helped. The moment Justin had stepped out of the bathroom, Brian had started in on him until Justin had left the loft rather than strangle him to death. "Justin, you're a gifted artist. I just want you to focus on your art."

"I don’t have to stay home to do that."

"Well, you can't do it if you're working sixty hours a week in some office."

"There are other kinds of jobs, Brian." 

"That all require time commitments," Brian explained. "Your art should come first."

"Maybe I can do both. Find a job that uses my art." He didn't say that he'd found such a job. Only it had been in Hollywood and across country from Brian. He didn't have to say it, they both remembered. 

Instead of bringing up the job in LA, Brian addressed another concern. "A job that uses your art, huh? Yeah, uses it all up until there's nothing left for you." He knew how that was. He'd had some interest in art as a teenager, it was one of the reasons why he'd been attracted to advertising but it'd been years since he'd picked up a pencil and sketched anything more than a rough idea. 

"Bri—"

"All I'm saying is I make enough money to take care of us. It might not be that way always. So while I can do it, why not take advantage of it?"

"Take advantage of you, you mean."

"What's mine is yours."

Justin took a bite out of his pizza. Brian could see the circuits connecting inside his head. Finally, he finished eating and nodded almost imperceptibly. "All right. I'll think about it." 

But Brian knew Justin was putting him off. Taking a huge sip of his beer, finding courage in Sam Adams, Brian asked softly, "Would you feel differently if we were married?"

Almost choking on his food, Justin sputtered, "W—what? Married?" He wheezed a laugh. "Where the fuck did that come from?"

"It's a question."

"But you don't believe in marriage, remember? 'Hi, I'm Brian Kinney and I don't believe in matrimony.' Remember him?"

"Just for shits and giggles, say that I did and say that we got married, would you feel differently about my supporting us until your art paid off?"

"I don't know." He paused. "Maybe." Shrugged. "If we shared expenses and I contributed what I could and you didn't act like such a jerk about it."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, I have some money, from Rage, but you won't take it—"

"You paid me back for college, that's enough."

"But I still have money, Brian."

"You bought a car and you pay for the upkeep on that."

"But I live here and you won't let me pay any of the household bills—"

"Because you don't need to. I make enough—"

"That's not the point!" At Gus' look around, Justin forced a smile to reassure the little boy and he went back to his show. To Brian, Justin said sotto voce, "Let's just forget it, okay?" 

Not wanting to drive Justin back to Daphne's, Brian let it go. For all of three hours during which they cleaned up after dinner, built a Leggo castle with Gus, and then put him to bed, at which time he asked Justin, "How come you're not my daddy?" 

"Cause," he replied, "I'm your Justin."

"Are you Daddy's Justin too?"

"Only one," he said and he caught Brian studying him as if he were a rare Rembrandt. After kissing Gus goodnight, they retired to their room. Where the points of their discussion floated around them like restless spirits.

Succumbing to the need to speak, Brian said, "Sometimes I feel like you gave up everything to be with me. And it makes me…" He paused, hoping Justin would keep silent and let him finish. "It makes me crazy… to think that I, that I might have stood in the way, that… that you might have given up your dreams for me."

Justin went to him and slipped his arms around him, fingers stroking the taut muscles of his back. "I didn't, Brian. I didn't give up anything and I got everything in return."

"You really mean that?"

"Yeah," smiled Justin. "Even though everything includes a cantankerous son of a bitch who makes me want to kick his ass most days of the week." 

With a grin, Brian asked, "And the other days?"

Justin tilted his head and drew Brian's down so that their lips touched. "Everyday," Justin assured him, "everyday, I love you."

With Gus sleeping on his futon in the alcove formerly occupied by Brian's chaise lounge, the two men weren't able to fool around like they normally would have on a Saturday night but they snuggled close together and fell asleep entwined and hard after a few minutes of heavy duty kissing. They'd have to wait until Sunday night after Gus had gone home to satisfy other urges and to make up properly. 

 

He'd heard Brian ease from the bed earlier and had buried himself even deeper beneath the covers, thinking his partner would return. When he hadn't, Justin had put it out of his mind and fallen asleep again. After all, it was Sunday and Sunday was their day to sleep in. 

Luckily for Brian, Justin was sleeping pretty heavily when the florist arrived with his delivery. Tipping the guy, Brian gently slid the door shut and went to put the finishing touches on breakfast. Justin had to be knocked out if he hadn't smelled the bacon and hash browns cooking which was fine by Brian. Plating the pork and potatoes, they only had to wait for the toast to finish. When the bread popped up, Gus buttered it and they were done. Putting everything on a tray, Brian set Gus down on the floor first and then picked up the tray to carry it into the bedroom. Gus brought the flowers and the card he'd made. Exchanging glances with Gus, Brian counted silently: one, two, three. Together they yelled, "Happy Justin's Day!"

Justin jerked awake, heart racing. "Fuck!"

Giggling, Gus said, "Justin said—"

"I heard him," Brian interrupted. 

"Brian, what's going on?" he asked as he rubbed his eyes.

"Happy Justin's Day, baby," Brian replied. 

"Justin's Day?"

Gus held out the flowers and the card. "This is for you."

While Justin smelled the roses, luckily the one flower he didn't seem to be allergic to, and examined the card Gus had made him, Brian put down the tray and then rummaged in the closet for his partner's gift.

"Gus," said Justin, "this is beautiful." On the outside, the little boy had drawn Justin, identifiable by his yellow hair and blue eyes. Justin was smiling and there was a rainbow overhead and the words, "Happy Justin's Day!" Inside there was a picture of Gus saying, "I love you." Climbing onto the bed, Gus delivered a Happy Justin's Day kiss and conveyed the words of his card himself. "I love you too," Justin told him. 

Bringing Justin's present from behind his back, Brian said, "Happy Justin's Day." Justin took the gift, a questioning look in his eyes so Brian explained. "Gus said his mommies had Mommies' Day and I had Daddy's Day so you deserved a day too. And I agree." He sat next to Justin and kissed him. "I love you," he murmured. The words still came so rarely from him that Justin sat mildly stunned. "Go on," prompted Brian, "open your present." 

Fingers suddenly thick and clumsy, Justin managed to unwrap the box and then to flip back the top. Puzzled, he removed a small silver trophy. 

"Turn it around."

He did so and his eyes grew large.

"Read it," Gus said.

"To the World's Greatest Justin." Eyes shiny with unshed tears, Justin sniffled. 

"Allergies?" asked Brian but Justin could only shake his head. Giving him another kiss, Brian placed the tray of food over Justin's lap. "Better eat before it gets cold." He got up to get the coffee and orange juice. There was enough food on the plate for them all so they would all have breakfast in bed. 

 

Gus had gone home, reluctantly, but not before wrangling a promise out of his daddy and Justin to have him over the next weekend. Alone at last, Brian and Justin fell back on their Sunday habits: Brian sitting down at the computer and Justin getting out his sketch pad. Only, every now and then Brian would look up from his work and see Justin studying the trophy they'd given him. Finally Justin gave up any pretense at sketching and picked up the trophy and ran his finger over the words engraved on the front: "To the World's Greatest Justin". Abandoning his own work, Brian walked behind the sofa and slipped his arms down Justin's chest. Kissed the top of his head. "Anything else you want to do? Got," and he checked the clock on the DVD player, "seven hours left of Justin's Day." 

A grin plastered on his face, Justin twisted his neck and looked up at his lover. "How about we play, 'Justin Says'?" he suggested with a lift of his eyebrow. 

Brian's lifted in reply. He smirked. "Your day."

Turning in the seat and getting to his knees so that his face was on level with Brian's crotch, Justin said, "Justin says, unzip your jeans." When Brian had done so, he said, "Justin says, take out your cock." Before Brian could release his dick, Justin ordered, "Justin says, get it hard for me," so Brian wrapped his fingers around his cock and began to stroke it. When it had begun to stiffen, Justin brushed away Brian's hands, "Justin says, moan," and he opened his lips around the head and flicked his tongue over the tip and Brian did. 

 

Having played for a good half hour or more, they settled down and curled about one another in bed, Brian's larger frame sheltering Justin's smaller one. As Justin combed his fingers through Brian's hair, stroking his temples, Brian told him, "Gus asked me yesterday why we weren't married. He said I'd probably asked you and you'd said no."

Laughing, Justin said, "He's your son all right."

"Everyone expects me to ask you but never the other way around." He fixed his eyes on his lover's. "So why haven't you asked me?"

Justin felt his heart rate speeding up. He licked his lips. "At first, I didn't think you'd say yes."

Brian glanced at the alarm clock next to their bed. "Still got six hours left of Justin's Day," meaning it was his day to have whatever he wanted.

Voice subdued, Justin said, "Maybe I want my wish to last forever, not just one day."

After a long moment, Brian spoke. "You only have to say it."

Mouth slightly dry, Justin swallowed, then said softly, "Justin says, marry me."

Brian's eyes twinkled. "Need an officiant."

Justin smiled a little. "Justin says, promise you'll marry me."

"I promise," Brian said and watched Justin's smile brighten. 

"That's all I need." He chuckled. "You know if you ever bring matching rings home, they better be cockrings, don't you?" Justin asked and Brian laughed and lowered his head for a taste of Justin's lips. Having kissed for a while, Justin grinned, blue eyes shining. "I think Justin's Day should come every day."

Arms tightening around his fiancé for life, Brian rested his chin upon Justin's crown. "Believe me, it does."


End file.
